


Pamphlets

by orphan_account



Category: DCU, Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-26
Updated: 2011-02-26
Packaged: 2017-10-15 23:24:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/165953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aqualad has no idea what he's in for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pamphlets

**Author's Note:**

> **WARNING** for the consent issues that come with being freshly grown. Full of silly headcanon. Written for Porn Day and the frighteningly handsome Peri.

“Can I... touch you?”

“How so?” Kaldur asks, looking up from his book without missing a beat as Superboy sits down beside him on the couch. He’s come to expect the occasional wording difficulties from him; it’s doubtful that he understands the implications of his words, and Kaldur doesn’t think it his place to confirm the matter. Superboy squeezes his eyes shut, so Kaldur just waits for him to find the way to articulate his request. His communication skills are far from perfect, but as long as he’s not being shouted at, Kaldur has plenty of patience.

“...Kid Flash and Robin are always... putting their arms around each other’s shoulders, or slapping their hands together. And Miss Martian likes hugging people. Most of my touching other people has been hitting them,” he sighs, and Kaldur gives a thin smile. It’s not exactly uplifting, being reminded that for all his knowledge Superboy doesn’t know what a high five is, but that he understands physical contact should go beyond punching is encouraging. “I thought I should ask you. Miss Martian seems uncomfortable when Kid Flash gets too close to her, and you didn’t mind back in Cadmus, when...”

“It’s somewhat different in a situation where touching someone will save them from harm, but no, I didn’t mind,” Kaldur interrupts. He’d prefer to work on one thing at a time, and both his King and Batman believe that Superman will come around eventually. It’s not the time to dwell on him and the ways he and Superboy are different. “It’s thoughtful of you to ask though. Some people are uncomfortable being touched without permission, and others prefer not to be touched at all. As for me, you can. Did you have anything in mind?”

“Could we do the...” he holds his hand up flat, and Kaldur high fives him, smiling.

“High five. It’s best if you’re forceful enough that it feels energetic, but not so vigorous that it hurts. I can handle considerably more than the average person, but you’ll want to exercise caution with most people. Especially non-metahumans,” he explains. Superboy takes a moment to process the information before repeating the motion; just hard enough that it feels energetic, he notes. “Perfect. It’s a good informal celebratory gesture. So while you should feel free to high-five, say, Robin, you might not want to try and get one out of Batman.”

“I figured, but thanks,” Superboy replies, smiling as well; Kaldur likes to think they’re both equally amused at the thought of Batman being offered a high five. “Your... skin icons? Can I touch them?” he asks, and Kaldur’s smile falters, though it’s not the interest in his skin icons that bothers him. For all their uses and their appeal to those flashes of teenage vanity, they’re something of an Achilles heel: the flesh is incredibly sensitive. He couldn’t even swim the week after he got them without excruciating pain. The thought of specifically allowing someone else to touch them is disconcerting.

But... he wants Superboy to be able to trust him. And he’s all too aware of the image he projects: welcoming, but guarded. How Superboy is supposed to allow himself to be vulnerable in front of someone who won’t return the favour, Kaldur has to admit he can’t imagine.

He snaps out of his thoughts and looks back to Superboy, whose smile has faded somewhat. “Yes. But please be especially gentle. They’re very sensitive.” He shifts his body a little closer to Superboy’s, proffering his arm; Superboy cups his elbow with one hand, supporting it without so much as being asked. Despite his consideration, it’s still startling to Kaldur when a finger draws a slow stripe down his shoulder. It’s nothing like the initial pain was, but he tenses nonetheless, and Superboy draws back immediately.

“Are you okay?” he asks, and Kaldur isn’t entirely sure, but he’s determined not to give in.

“I am fine. It’s just... unusual. I’ll tell you if it becomes too much,” he assures Superboy, who holds his gaze for a moment, as if to ensure that he’s speaking truthfully. Kaldur seems to pass the test, and Superboy lays a finger on his arm again, applying more pressure in his explorations. Kaldur bites back the wince, the gasp, the whine he can feel building in his throat. He is Aqualad, the leader of his team, the one who remains composed no matter what he’s faced with, and he refuses to buckle under pressure.

But oh, is it ever a daunting task. Superboy moves away from an area as soon as Kaldur begins to think he might acclimate, electricity crackles just underneath his skin, and while Superboy’s fingers are smooth as can be, Kaldur swears he can feel his fingerprint’s every ridge as it drags torturously across the ink. He draws in a ragged breath, and Superboy halts once again.

“I’m okay. Really,” Kaldur manages, unsure whether he’s trying to convince himself or Superboy, but the latter takes him at face value, _grabbing_ his arm with his entire hand, and it’s all he can do to sit stock-still, the icons glowing faintly as he struggles to restrain both the electricity and himself at the same time. He refuses to react in such a manner. It’s... degrading, it’s embarrassing, it’s going to traumatize Superboy, it’s happening anyway, and it’s a few more moments of wonderful agony before he can choke out Superboy’s name.

“...You’re aroused,” Superboy says, casual as if he were saying hello, but this time he doesn’t relax his grip on Kaldur’s arm.

“I... suppose I am,” Kaldur pants, not sure whether to be comforted or horrified by Superboy’s tone. “I apologise. I need to... control my physical impulses. Was arousal in your Cadmus education?”

“No, I... Red Tornado got me some pamphlets,” he replies sheepishly, and Kaldur lets out a breathy laugh. “You shouldn’t apologize. If you want to, we could... do things? If you like boys. The pamphlet said not everyone does.” Whether he’s allowed to respond the way his cock wants him to, he’s not sure. Is it inappropriate for the team leader to ‘do things’ with one of his team members? Should he be concerned about Superboy’s mental age, and the possible emotional ramifications? Does Superboy understand sex as well as he’s implying he does?

“I... I’m not sure if you know what you’re asking,” Kaldur decides to raise his last concern, and Superboy’s expression immediately sours.

“ _Don’t,_ ” he _growls_ , and the sound is more thrilling than Kaldur has any right to feel it is, but Superboy reins himself in, “treat me like that. I read all the pamphlets. Twice.”

“My apologies. That’s... as good a qualification as any,” he admits; Red Tornado has proven himself to be more than competent as a caretaker. He’ll just have to trust that he gave Superboy a good education. “To answer your queries, I do happen to like boys. And... doing things sounds great.”

“Good. I’ve been waiting to try this out for days,” he says, wasting no time in straddling Kaldur and grabbing his cock through his pants, sudden and rough. Kaldur tries to laugh, thinking of all the teens who wait years to put their knowledge to good use, tries to scold himself for being caught off guard so easily, but all his brain can manage is a slew of Atlantean curses his King would prefer to imagine Kaldur doesn’t even know.

“Let go, just for a moment,” his voice wavers as he fights the urge to just allow Superboy to happen to him. Superboy doesn’t even bristle at being told what to do, and the bit of mind his arm’s release affords him a moment of satisfaction when he realizes it; perhaps this small breakthrough in their relationship somehow makes up for all the dirty thoughts running through Kaldur’s mind. He tugs at the sleeves of Superboy’s shirt, and Superboy takes the hint, lifting his arms for Kaldur to pull his shirt off; realizing that he’s being given access to the sight before him is mind-blowing, but he still takes the opportunity to remove his belt buckle, setting both it and the shirt aside. This is just about the last time he wants to call for his King’s aid.

Kaldur’s hands finally free, he doesn’t even have the decency to hesitate as he grabs Superboy’s pectorals, failing terribly in his attempt to seem as though he’d never imagined them in his grasp before. He’s no slouch himself, but Superboy’s physique is perfect. He’d be jealous if he weren’t so turned on. He massages the firm muscle and glances up at Superboy to see him biting his lip, glad he can get a reaction out of Superboy too, but it seems almost insignificant when Superboy grabs him by both arms and Kaldur cries out, completely insignificant when they glide up and down and he wants to scream, his icons emitting dazzling light.

“I’m going to electrocute you!” he shouts desperately.

“I read some people like that,” Superboy lets go with a smug grin, giving Kaldur a moment to recover. Just how in-depth were those pamphlets?

“Just... please, not both at once. I can’t handle it,” Kaldur laughs at his own lack of composure, casting his eyes down to his cock, his pants so tight it feels like they might rip wide open; he rises just enough to slide them off his hips, giving himself some much-needed breathing room. Superboy’s not exactly looking comfortable in his jeans either, so Kaldur undoes his belt buckle; Superboy catches on yet again, and stands up to shrug off his jeans and boxers.

Kaldur can’t help but notice that one of them is significantly more clothed than the other, but he can’t bring himself to be too concerned about it when Superboy is straddling him again. Determined to not be the only one reduced to quivering hormonal mush, he reaches around to grab Superboy’s ass ( _oh wow_ ), pulling him close enough that he can wrap his hand around both of their cocks. Just the excitement of contact causes Superboy to buck into Kaldur’s grip, drawing pleased moans out of the both of them. Kaldur squeezes his ass and pumps his hand up and down, eating up every little contraction he can get out of the muscles in Superboy’s face.

But it seems like he’s destined to be surprised as far as this encounter goes, as Superboy leans forward and slips his tongue into Kaldur’s open mouth, and now it’s Kaldur thrusting against Superboy as a tiny voice in the back of his mind tells him that it’s Superboy’s first. It’s rough and messy, their teeth clacking together, but Aqualad can’t find it in him to complain, even when Superboy breaks away, planting kisses on his jaw, his gills, his collar, his-- no, he wouldn’t.

But he does, bringing everything back to the damn skin icons, just the light brush of his lips getting Kaldur to whimper meekly, but it’s quickly supplanted by his tongue, and Kaldur could count the taste buds if he weren’t so occupied making noises he had no idea he could make, grabbing Superboy’s ass with his other hand to pull him as close as he’ll get, arching and thrusting in a frenzied desire for friction, and then Superboy grabs his arms again and he’s going to come or die but he’s not sure which one and oh _fuck, **teeth**_

Kaldur’s orgasm hits him like lightning and a tidal wave, and he thinks he electrocutes Superboy a little, the bright burn of his icons piercing through his clenched eyelids as he comes all over his shirt with a strangled cry.

He confirms that he didn’t die by opening his eyes to the sight of Superboy staring at him, biting his lip so hard it’s bleeding as he jacks himself off, the sight causing Kaldur to shudder. Superboy finishes with a grunt, ruining Kaldur’s costume even more before he collapses onto him, their chests heaving together as they catch their breath.

“Did I... shock you?” Kaldur wheezes.

“A little bit,” Superboy chuckles, lifting his head off Kaldur’s shoulder when he gasps at the movement. “I didn’t mind.”

“Sorry,” he murmurs. He thinks to ask how it all made Superboy feel, his earlier concerns beginning to make their way back through his mental haze, but contentment is written all over his face, his body relaxed like Kaldur’s never seen it before. It would probably be patronizing to ask when the simple answer is right there; they can discuss the complexities later. For now, lying there together sounds perfect.

“Hello, boys,” Red Tornado greets them, and haze is immediately replaced with panic as Kaldur struggles to find the words (they’re not coming) or cover himself up (Superboy has his pants firmly pinned) or _something_ that will make this situation less horrifying.

“Hey,” Superboy replies, and that is really not what Kaldur had in mind.

Red Tornado looks from one of them to the other, his expressionless faceplate only fueling Kaldur’s unease until he finally says, “I see my effort in procuring those instructional pamphlets was not wasted.”

“It wasn’t. Thanks,” Superboy says, and that’s when Kaldur begins to think that Superboy is handling this whole thing with more maturity than he is.

“You are welcome. Please do not forget to clean up after yourselves. Superboy knows where the laundry room is, and there are cleaning supplies in the closet,” he adds before turning around and walking away.

“We won’t!” Kaldur calls after him, determined to be at least somewhat responsible, though it doesn’t stop him from letting out the huge breath he’d been holding in. “You... you’re going to have to show me these pamphlets.”


End file.
